


Dancing in the Moonlight―Finnpoe Shorts.

by mandalorianss



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Finn & Poe, Finnpoe - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Star Wars - Freeform, The Rise of Skywalker - Freeform, tros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandalorianss/pseuds/mandalorianss
Summary: Finnpoe short stories that'll make you soft <3
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Dancing in the Moonlight―Finnpoe Shorts.

Puddles of orange congealed calmly in the sun’s glorious beams; shining in the sunlight as it reached its peak, overlooking the mundane runway―its deep, dull shades of grey and black battling the sporadic specks of paint dripping carelessly from the X-Wing onto the ground. Poe wiped the sweat from his brow, the sleeve of his dishevelled overalls acting as a cloth―he stepped back cautiously, careful not to stand in any of the paint that laced the ebony ground beneath him as a smile melted onto his features, a short transition from the upturned grin he usually held on his tanned face. Poe allowed his arms to fold before him as he inspected the ship, a prideful glint in his mocha orbs that had become a bewitching hazel in the blazing light of the planet’s sun. It somewhat resembled Black One―even with the half-finished painting, and it certainly felt more like home with the deep orange coated sparingly onto the pale, melancholy blue that had been there beforehand―the off-white shade of the metal was of course no match for the sleek raven paintwork of his former ship, but Poe knew he’d have to make do―the Resistance came with sacrifices―and Black One was one of them.

Finn approached the tall, glass window inside the Resistance base, his eyes struggling to adjust to the intense stare of the sun upon Ajan Kloss. After flickering around the base, his eyes snapped to the moving orange nearby, the messy bundle of dark curls alerting the former Stormtrooper of the presence of Poe Dameron, _best pilot in the Resistance_ , Finn thought, smiling as comfort took over his body―Poe had always had that effect on him; he always felt giddy and warm inside whenever he was nearby. Poe was safe for him―even with all his reckless charm. He allowed himself to watch the Commander a little longer, trails of paint following the pilot in his wake as he drifted around the unfamiliar ship, trying to make it more _him_. Finn sighed gently, the heavy burden of uncertainty weighing down on him like a mountain of stones; each one an emotion he _wasn’t sure he should feel_. Thick leather combat boots collided gently with the earthy ground of the base, determination and nervousness increasing with each step Finn took towards Poe’s new X-Wing.

Above, the sun had begun neglecting the planet, a burnt ginger colour filling the sky gloriously while the breeze calmed to a tranquil whisper, only shaking the luscious blades of grass sprouting naturally from the soil. Finn watched as the sward morphed from an emerald shade to a deep pine green, the shadow of a planet entering night enveloping the exposed outside of the Resistance base. Despite the setting sun, the tangerine-coloured overalls of Poe Dameron could still be seen― _hell, you could probably still see those in the pitch black_ , Finn thought with a chuckle as he approached the pilot.The concentration on Poe’s face was clear, the set furrow of his brow making his eyes squint slightly as he scrutinised the ship before him, a paintbrush in his gentle hand. “Having fun, Dameron?” Finn started, his voice wavering slightly as the pilot whipped his head around, giving his best friend an enormous grin. Finn couldn’t help but mirror Poe’s smile―there was just something so infectious about the grinning pilot, something that caused _forest fires_ to light in Finn’s soul.

“Oh, _bundles_.” Poe joked back, looking adoringly at the man before him, a rosy blush tinting his paint-smeared cheeks. Poe held a certain softness for the ex-Stormtrooper―the way he smiled made him weak at the knees―made him feel as if he was soaring through the galaxy, watching the abundance of planets blur as he sped past them in a moment of euphoric ecstasy. Poe’s smile widened at the thought, his eyes flickering to the man leaning awkwardly against a parts container. “So Finn, what brings you out here this time of evening?” the pilot questioned, his gaze leaving him to continue on with the paintwork.

“You look like you could use a hand, that’s all.” Finn crouched beside the messy pile of brushes Poe had discarded on the floor, gently picking one up and stroking the beige bristles against his exposed skin, clearing off the dust from the ground. Poe watched the action softly out the corner of his eye, grinning to himself―Poe could see himself growing to love Finn more everyday, and, perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks, but he thought he could sense Finn’s feelings being slowly reciprocated―however maybe he was wrong; maybe it was just a lie he was telling himself to make the inevitable heartbreak hurt less. The pilot frowned at the turmoil smothering his mind, his brush pausing inches away from the X-Wing as the brooding, contemplative expression usurped his features. Finn watched in concern as his smile washed away, replaced suddenly by a tsunami of tragic thought dripping over his features―he’d never seen Poe without some sort of a smile on his face; now, he couldn’t seem to shake the insurmountable yanking at his heart-strings as his favourite person in the galaxy struggled silently before him.

“Dameron?” Finn asked, bringing the pilot back to the harsh reality they lived in. The crease in his dark brows remained; a cloudy blanket quelling the usual lively glint in the pilot’s eyes that gave Finn a rush of adrenaline when focused on him. Poe shifted his glance up to the man he held in highest adoration, intrusive pessimism leaving a bitter taste on his tongue as his previous thoughts lingered. He gave Finn a grin, hoping to shut down the concern clearly etched into his wide, carob-coloured orbs. Unfortunately, he saw almost immediately through the grin Poe had thrown his way―his smile always reached his eyes, making them glint―no, _gleam_ ―like they were made of liquescent bronzite, with flecks of kyber crystal coursing through them―though this time, they seemed to hold a storm behind them; the kind with destructive thunder and rain like stone; _a storm nobody wanted to experience._

Finn gave him a gentle smile back; his own thoughts tormenting his mind at his friend’s sudden change in mood. He mindlessly dipped the brush into the deep barrel of orange, gently smoothing the tip of the brush along the ship’s exterior, careful not to blunder. Poe mirrored his actions―the silence between them was suffocating, yet neither dared speak; their own worries a weighty, constant pressure on their already-trembling shoulders. Finn stole glances at the Commander, watching as he forced himself to completely immerse in the task at hand―his shoulders hunched together in tension, appearing closed off to the world.

Glancing down at the paintbrush he equipped, Finn crouched down to dip it into the paint; a thick, heavy ball dripping and bending the brush from the magnitude of the substance, as well as the wicked plan in Finn’s mind to cheer his friend up. He lifted the paintbrush carefully, cringing at the excessive waste of paint splattering onto the ground, before flicking the brush in Poe’s direction; his clean back quickly covered in the wet substance.

Poe’s heart exploded at the contact behind him; whipping around to find Finn barely containing his laughter, paintbrush in hand as he exploded into a fit of hysterics at the pilot’s astonished expression. Poe couldn’t stop the colossal smile adorning his features as he laughed along with Finn, leaning down to scoop paint out of the barrel with his bare hands; a childish smirk on his face as he wiped it over a recovering Finn. The spluttering from the man instilled in him a deep sense of _home_. Poe Dameron had finally found something―or, _someone_ ―to call home. Paint flew into Poe's hair; ringlets of hickory-brown changing to a marmalade shade, flecks of paint haphazardly strewn across his sunkissed flesh as they flung and launched paint at one another under the decreasing warmth of the sun, melting into the planet as darkness roamed throughout the atmosphere.

Poe tackled him to the ground roughly, the playful glint in his eye once more as he placed an orange handprint onto his ebony t-shirt, a permanent mark right at the centre of Finn's heart. He removed himself from a panting Finn, collapsing beside him and chuckling as they both peered up at the sheet of stars adorning the sky with prideful magnificence. Finn and Poe sighed simultaneously, as if the entirety of the universe lay in that single, shared breath. Turning to the man beside him, Poe watched as the reflection of the sky above was captured in the chocolatey essence of his friend's iris'. The words, once on the tip of his tongue, had dissipated into the air, only the comfortable silence of evening and unspoken requited love remained, taunting them both sadistically. The pilot couldn't help but stare―Finn was, to put it simply; beautiful. Inside and out. And he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with him―but there's no way he felt the same. He had to just enjoy the time they could spend together―he didn't expect to live long anyway; a Resistance pilot didn't really have a necessarily long life-span these days―maybe Finn wasn't the one for him.

"Can I tell you something?" Finn asked, rotten nerves biting and snapping at his flesh ferociously; injecting venomous anxiety into his bloodstream as he turned to face the pilot lying beside him. Poe nodded his head, waving his hand for him to continue―his brows furrowed gently, curiosity clear on his seemingly calm expression, yet he said nothing. 

Finn sighed in frustration; his mind a blank slate―speaking suddenly seemed like a foreign concept to him. He risked a glance at Poe; his big, wide eyes focused entirely on him as he rested his face on his hand, waiting for Finn to speak. He stuttered quickly, his mouth failing to catch up with the tremendous swiftness to which his mind seemed to be working. "I-Well. Okay. Ever since I first met you, I knew there was something about you―something, something worth saving?," he paused, cursing himself under his breath, "what I'm trying to say is―" Finn stopped, regret gnawing at his insides―Poe would _never_ feel the same, so what was he doing? 

"I-I like you, Dameron. Okay?" 

Finn focused completely on the stars above―Maker, he felt like an idiot. In what universe would Poe ever―

Poe reached over gently, bringing Finn's face to his own in a nimble movement; their lips finding each other as if it was second nature. The pilot kissed him longingly, bundles of tightly-coiled yearning loosening the moment their mouths made contact―Poe felt electric; as if he was feeling every sensation and thrill in his body for the first time. They both sat up hastily, Poe's hands cupping gently around his partner's soft cheeks―where they belonged. He leaned in again, kissing Finn deeper and deeper until they were both engulfed and entangled by one another. Finn broke the kiss, breathing―truly breathing; he felt...relaxed. He felt at _home_. 

Finn grabbed the collar of the Commander's overalls, tugging it closer to himself as he kissed Poe with fiery passion, leaving flurries of butterflies soaring throughout both of their bodies. They pulled apart―but not too far apart; neither could shake the feeling this was all just one big dream, and that straying too far from one another would cause them to wake up. Finn lay down again, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding―it was as if every single problem, every second-thought and repressed emotion had melted away; Maker, he felt so weightless. Poe made him feel weightless. 

"So, you like me huh?" Poe teased, finding his place beside Finn and glancing up at the star-encrusted sky. 

"Shut it, Dameron. You like me too." Finn turned his head to face the pilot, looking at the grin plastered on his still-blushing face. Finn felt at peace―despite them being at war. There was something so―so right about lying with Poe beneath the sky. Finn knew that as long as they still had each other they'd be okay. This was what he wanted―the two of them, glancing up at the stars, paint-covered and separate from the world. 


End file.
